


It's a pleasure doing business with you

by Marium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demon Deals, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marium/pseuds/Marium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam dies, Dean feels that there's nothing left for him, so he decides to summon a demon and sell his soul to revive his brother. However, instead of the red-eyed demon he had already met, it's a white-eyed, far more dangerous demon, who has a personal interest in Dean, the one who appears before him. And this one won't settle for just a kiss.</p><p>But to have his brother back, Dean is willing to do anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a pleasure doing business with you

In all his life, Dean had had two basic roles, two functions: On one side he was son and soldier; on the other, he was brother and guardian. Everything else was either related to these halves of his life (for example, he had always considered the hunting a part of his obedience to his father) or was dispensable (like sex, which pleasurable as it was, he could go without).

 

Less than a year ago, a half of his existence had disappeared. How could he be a soldier if he had no captain? Not only captain, but one of the only two people he really cared about. He had loved his father fiercely, even with his imperfections, even if he wasn’t father of the year, even if he resented those last words whispered to his ear. Even if he had given his life away to save Dean’s, not caring how he would feel after that.

 

He had felt lost and desperate, but he had managed to keep going because he still was a brother and a guardian, he still had half of his reasons to be. Sam was no better than him back then, and he had needed Dean to be strong to support him.

 

But now? Dean looked numbly at Sam. At his corpse. Now he had nothing. Sam, Sammy, his little brother, was dead. He felt new tears fall down his face, covering the not yet dry path other tears had left a few minutes before. He still refused to accept it, hoped it was just a nightmare, even after hours of staring at him.

 

Dad should have let him die, he thought. He should have kept living and burn Dean’s corpse, and take care of Sam himself. He wouldn’t have let anything hurt him. He wouldn’t have let him die.

 

What could he possibly do with himself? He was utterly lost, there was nothing he could do. He didn’t care about anything anymore. He probably should stay there, getting drunk and wait for a reaper to consider him worth reaping.

 

But there _was_ something he could do, he realized. He still had a chance to fix this, to get Sam to open his eyes again and walk, as if he had only fallen asleep for a few hours. There would be a price to pay, surely, but he was completely willing to pay it, Sam was worth it. His life had no meaning without his little brother anyway.

 

He said goodbye to Sammy, told him that his big brother was going to fix this, as if he could hear him. Giving him a last look, he got out of the room and the house.

 

He neared the Impala, opened the trunk. He moved away some of the weapons, and found what he was looking for. The materials he needed to summon a demon. He had collected them, caressed the idea to get his father back, but ultimately pushed it aside, although he had never thrown them away. Now he was glad he hadn’t.

 

He closed the trunk, got into the car, turned the engine on and started driving, looking for the closest crossroad he could find. When he arrived, he went into its center and dug a hole, buried the little box and looked around breathlessly, waiting for the demon to appear.

 

No one came.

 

He waited some more, starting to get impatient. After a while, he started shouting, daring them to show themselves, to not be a coward, to not make him wait all night.

 

“Patience is a virtue, didn’t you know, Dean? I haven’t even delayed that much.”

 

He turned as the words were spoken and saw a tall man with black hair and beard, delighted grey eyes, wearing a beige shirt and white pants.

 

“Who would have thought this would happen someday? Dean Winchester, of all people, summoning me? I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you with my own eyes. Well, technically those aren’t my own, but you get what I mean, don’t you?” The man said as he neared Dean too much for his liking.

 

“Alastair.” The demon introduced himself as he offered his hand and his eyes rolled into his skull, making  them an unsettling white. Dean did not shake the offered hand, instead inspected the possessed man before him. This didn’t seem to offend the demon, who just shrugged and turned, walking away a few steps before facing him again, eyes normal again.

 

“And tell me, Dean, to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you? Has your brother’s death made you so lonely that summoning demons seems a good way to make friend?” He asked mockingly.

 

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I called you for. I want to make a deal.”

 

“To get little Sammy back, right?” Alastair began to circle him slowly, once again too close for Dean’s liking.  Dean didn’t say answer his question, just glared, which Alastair took for a yes. “A Winchester selling his soul to resurrect a family member. Mmm, I wonder where have I heard that before... Ah, yes, of course! Old Johnny. So daddy’s boy makes the same choices? Must run in the blood then, I guess. How long do you think it would take for Sam to summon one of us? I think it’d be around a month.”

 

Dean glared some more. “Look, do we have a deal or not? You make Sam come back and in ten years I go to hell. I know you can do it, you demons got me back.”

 

Alastair stopped moving, standing in front of Dean. “A year. Not a day more.”

 

Dean looked at him, shocked, with his mouth opening slightly for a moment. Then he sneered. “Fuck you. I’m sure plenty of demons want my soul, some of them will be willing to give me the ten years other people get.”

 

The demon shrugged “Maybe. But none of them want it bad enough to go against my wishes.”

 

Dean snorted. “So are you telling me that you’re so high in the food chain that only demons that are weaker than you would bother dealing with me?”

 

“Exactly.” Alastair said with a nod and a smile.

 

“Bullshit. You’re lying. What, it’s been so long since you last got a soul that you have to lie to me? Are you afraid of your boss’ anger?”

 

The next thing Dean knew was that his chest hurt like hell and that he was flying through the air and landed a good distance away from where he had been standing. He winced and touched his chest, wondering if he had broken any bone, a question whose answer probably was ‘yes’. When he managed to get to his feet again, Alastair was next to him, smiling as he saw him wince in pain. Dean glared at him with hate.

 

“Now Dean, it isn’t wise to insult someone so much more powerful than you. Even lower demons could destroy you with no effort. And about my power, I’ll give you an idea. You know Yellow-eyes, don’t you?” Dean made a surprised sound. Alastair nodded. “I thought so. He is the demon who burned your mother alive, bought your father’s soul and took your brother to the place where he died. Your father, a far more skilled hunter than you’ll ever be, had been hunting him for twenty-two years only to die at his hands. He is by far the most powerful being you’ve ever met.” Alastair leaned into his personal space again, so close that he could feel his breathing in his skin, and his eyes went white for a moment. “He is _very_ careful to not piss me off. I’m much more powerful than him and he knows it _very well_. So if you are so afraid of him, then you should be utterly terrified of me “

 

A chill went through Dean’s spine. Something ,the demon’s voice, his smile, even his aura, made him believe him. He suddenly became aware of how powerful the being inches away from him was, and just how helpless he was.

 

He swallowed. “Ok, I believe you. Either deal with you or no deal at all. I don’t want the ten years, I’ll settle for eight.”

 

 “One.”

 

“Five.”

 

“One.”

 

“Three?”

 

“One. Dean, I’m not the desperate one here.” Alastair stated calmly. “Daddy got less than an hour. Given that I could demand you to die right after I fulfill my part, I think giving you a year is very generous of me.”

 

Dean looked at him, doubting briefly. Was this really the only one he could deal with? Was there no one else? The hellish bastard stood calmly besides him, smiling at him, waiting for him to make up his mind. Dean sighed. He believed the guy, and he was definitely willing to have only one more year if it meant having his brother back.

 

“Alright, it’ll be the way you want. If you only give me a year, then it’s OK by me as long as you carry your part out.”

 

Alastair seemed pleased to hear that. “I’m delighted you and I want the same. We must ne kindred souls.” He said beaming. “Now the only thing we have to do is to is to seal it.” He added gleefully.

 

Dean snorted bitterly. “How? A handshake?” He asked.

 

“Dean, I know Sam is the smart one, but you’re not exactly stupid. I’m pretty sure you remember how to seal a deal with a demon. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or woman. No judging down there.” He explained calmly.

 

Gritting his teeth, the hunter grabbed the demon’s head and brought it down, smashing their lips together. Almost immediately, Alastair’s hands were roaming his body before one settled on his ass and another in his nape, his body pressing against Dean’s, and his tongue entering his mouth. Dean bit on it, hoping to rip it off, but no luck. Instead, he felt Alastair smile into the kiss, amused, and bit down into his lower lip, easily drawing blood and sucking it. Dean tried to pull away, considering that had been enough, but the demon didn’t let him go until he started feeling dizzy from the lack of air.

 

Once he was free the younger man took a step away, took in precious oxygen and  spat on the ground, then walked  towards his car. But then Alastair spoke.

 

“Where are you going, Dean? We haven’t finished our business. Or is it that you no longer want my services?.”

 

The hunter turned towards the demon, his brow frowned “What are you talking about? We are finished.”

 

“Dean, Dean. You should learn to not assume anything, the world is always full of surprises. Kissing is how demons make deals, but I never said that’s how _I_ make mine. The kissing was all your idea, not that I’m complaining. You could show some more enthusiasm next time, by the way. I almost felt as if I was the only one enjoying it.”

 

Dean looked at him with his eyed wide open, incredulous. “What do you want, then? Do I have to sacrifice ten virgin maidens or some sick shit like that?”

 

The demon shook his head. “As appealing as that sounds, I’m afraid we’ll have to leave it for another occasion. Dealing with me doesn’t consist of kissing, but it does involve kissing, among many other things. You get what I mean, don’t you?”

 

Dean paled. Was he implying what he thought he was implying? “How… How much more?” He asked tentatively, almost praying that it wasn’t what he was thinking. The demon’s expression told him that he was right.

 

“Fucking, getting laid, fornicating, mating, etc. Whatever you want to call it. A complete session.” Alastair smirked maliciously at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it my personal mission to make you enjoy every second of it. Once I’m done with you, you won’t even want to fuck a woman ever again.”

 

Dean felt some nausea and gagged. That was definitely not something he had expected. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He would do it. Sam was definitely worth it. He was worth everything that could happen to him.

 

He opened his eyes and looked at the demon with a neutral face “How do you want it? On the ground? Against a tree? On the back of the car?” He asked drily, trying to not show just how much the idea repulsed him.

 

“My boy, you’re humiliating yourself. You deserve so much more than that. Specially since it will be your first time, won’t it? You’re a virgin.” The demon said gleefully. He walked to the door of the co-pilot seat. “Let’s go to a nice, expensive hotel, shall we? Don’t worry about Sam, waiting some more hours won’t kill him.” He said, seemingly finding his own joke very funny.

 

Dean swallowed a rude comment and entered the car as Alastair did the same. He turned the car on and started driving to the closest town, which was almost an hour away. He turned the music on, pretending that it didn’t bother him that he was driving to an hotel to get fucked by some infernal scum. Alastair started humming beside him.

 

About five minutes of discomfort (for Dean) later, Alastair spoke casually. “I know you never have too much money on you, so I will pay for the hotel. Well, he will. My meatsuit, I mean. He’s wealthy, so I think he won’t mind if we borrow some money.” Dean’s knuckles became white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. “Does it bother you? That I am wearing this man? That you’re going to have sex with him against his will?” Alastair pointed out happily. Dean gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the wheel.

 

“So, this is how you get laid? Blackmailing people into sleeping with you? Are you _that_ unlikeable that other demons don’t want you?” He asked bitterly, not willing to acknowledge what had just been said, but unable to keep his insults inside his mouth.

 

“Boy, what did I tell you about insulting more powerful beings?” He question-answered, a menacing edge to his voice. “Just so you know, thousands of demons, many of them more attractive than you, wish to get on my good side. And if that takes getting fucked by me, well they’ve fell lower than that.” After a few seconds long pause, he continued, as if an afterthought. “They’re pathetic, worthless scum who have lost any sense of dignity. I would only touch them to slowly eviscerate them until they begged me to finish their pathetic existence.” All of it was said in the most casual of tones. Dean swallowed, tense. “Some of them are alright, tough. There are about fifteen demons in all of Hell I respect enough to fuck with, when I feel the need.”

 

“Well, if you have so many options, and you are so powerful, then why would you bother with a simple hunter?” Dean asked, trying to make his voice casual, and mostly failing at it.

 

“Oh, didn’t I tell you before? Excuse me, please. I’m such a forgetful old man. I never remember to tell people the important details, as you’ll find out. It’s because I am extremely interested in you, Dean Winchester. Actually, that interest has become more: attraction, love even. Yes, that’s it, I’m in love with you.” He declared.

 

Were they already on the city, they would have probably crashed, but luckily they weren’t, and Dean recovered from his shock quickly. Any other supernatural filth, any other situation, the hunter wouldn’t even considerate believing what he was told, but there was so much earnestness it Alastair’s voice, so little mockery, that he almost believed it. Of course that wasn’t possible, but he had to give the demon that he was a brilliant actor.

 

“Love?” He asked, deciding to play the demon’s game, lest it bothered Alastair if he didn’t. “Really?”

 

The demon hummed. “Love, Dean, love. I know you don’t think I’m capable of that, but I am. My love for you is only starting, but I haven’t been this invested in anyone else since the early Middle Ages, so I think you are worth keeping an eye on, don’t you?”

 

Dean snorted. “Well, flattering as that is, this isn’t a Disney movie, dude. You usually don’t fall in love with someone you just met. That usually takes, you know, actually knowing something about the other.”

 

Alastair chuckled lightly. “But I do know very much about you, my boy.”

 

That started an alarm in Dean’s brain. A supernatural creature, specially a demon, claiming that they knew things about you usually wasn’t a good thing.

 

“What, exactly, do you know about me, Alastair?”

 

“Oh, pretty much all of your existence. Some of it I’ve witnessed myself, and the rest I’ve been told by reliable sources. Every single detail, Dean. I know that the first monster you hunted was a rawhead, and you were _so_ happy and relieved when your daddy said he was proud of you, that you had done well. That the first time Sam went hunting with you, it was a werewolf, and you were so worried yet so proud of him. That you have some _huge_ daddy issues, you thought Sam was favorite, you never felt you did good enough. That you felt betrayed when Sammy left. That you were jealous of Jessica, almost hated her, because she got to be a part of Sam’s life and you didn’t, and you felt _so_ bad and guilty when she died. I know that you still mourn every person you couldn’t save, and let’s not get started with the ones that died because of you. You remember Layla, for example? I know you do. She was good, she was kind, and deserved to live. If you hadn’t gotten involved in that reaper thing she would’ve been healed. But you did and now she’s _dead_.”

 

He smirked cruelly at Dean’s face and kept going for some minutes, but Dean couldn’t hear him, the demon’s words having started a flow of memories in Dean that didn’t allow him to hear Alastair, not that he wanted, until a sudden change in the other man’s voice waked him up.  “I know that you still cry sometimes when you think of your Daddy and wish he had let you die. And of course, that to you Sam’s life is worth more than yours. I think that’s enough knowledge to start a relationship, isn’t it?”

 

Dean was tense, his knuckles white, teeth gritted, hard eyes focused on the road. “How do you know?” He asked although it was more of a demand. “Why do you know? Why are you so interested in me?”

 

“You sure you want to hear?”

 

“Yes!” Dean shouted.

 

“Calm down, boy. Well, in first place, you should know you Winchesters are kind of famous down there in the Pit.” The demon began. “Johnny was becoming one of the most bothersome hunters we were dealing with back then, and he had a special hate reserved only for us. Very prejudiced, in my opinion. And Sammy was one of Yellow-eyes freak children. Your association with them alone made you noteworthy, but you weren’t really anything special. No offense meant.”

 

“None taken”

 

“Well, as I said, Yellow-eyes had a special interest in your little family. Of all his little brats, Sammy was his favourite. Andy, Ava, Max, all of them were relevant, but Sam was the one he talked about the most, the one he had his hopes put in. I bet he’s disappointed he died. Anyway, after hearing so much about you, I decided to take a look. I expected Sam to be the interesting one, but sadly, he was almost as boring as any other mundane human, desiring a normal life.

 

But there was also you, Dean. _You_. You were perfect. Such desire of feeling needed, the insecurity. So devoted to your family to the point of being unhealthy, the willingness to sacrifice yourself not only for the ones you love, but everyone you thought that deserved to live. A self-esteem so low. The worry that no one loved you enough to stay with you, like Sam, or to believe you when you opened your heart to them, like Cassie. The need to help others to feel you are worth something. Your suffering.

 

I’m an artist, boy. I understand beauty in a way most can’t. And I can see the beauty in suffering and desperation. You suffer, and that makes you beautiful. You’re beautiful, boy, how could I not love you?”

 

“You done?” Dean asked with hatred oozing through his voice.

 

Alastair shrugged. “I could go on, but that’s the essential part, yes.”

 

“So you’re saying you like me because you think my suffering is _beautiful_?”

 

“You got it. I’m impressed.”

 

Dean closed his eyes for a second and sighted. What had he been expecting? Just a mean guy? It was a demon he was talking to, it was only natural he was fucked up, he sort of was evil incarnated after all.

 

“Dude, you have a very fucked up idea of what love is.”

 

None of them spoke again for the rest of the way.

 

 

 

When they arrived, Alastair gave him indications for the most expensive and luxurious hotel in town. Before walking into the reception, Alastair surrounded his shoulders with his arm. He asked for the most expensive room they had, and Dean’s eyes shot open upon seeing the price. Alastair grabbed his vessel`s wallet and opened it, revealing an incredible amount of money. He gave Dean more money than needed to pay, saying that they didn’t need the change, and while they waited to be given the key, he whispered endearments in his ear and nuzzled his neck and cheek.

 

If the looks they were getting were any indication, he looked exactly like what he feared he looked: like he was a whore who had seduced an immensely rich man to get his money. And if the smirk Alastair wore was any indication, that was exactly what he wanted him to look like. One more time, Dean damned him in his mind.

 

Upon walking in the room, Dean was somewhat taken aback: while he had been expecting it, the room was just too much: it was by far the most luxurious thing he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure that all the motel rooms he had ever paid for together were worth even half of this. As he looked around, he heard the door close behind him.

 

“I hope you like it.” Alastair commented as he walked into the room.

 

Dean returned to reality. The deal. He began to undress. The sooner this was done with, the better.

 

“Not so quickly, boy. Relax. Do you want some wine?” The demon asked in a voice that suggested that no, it wasn’t actually a question. Then hunter took the wineglass that was offered to him and took a sip as he sat on the bed. A bit too refined, he thought, a beer would’ve been better. He took another sip, eyes never leaving Alastair, who, as was usual by now, was looking at him with a wicked smirk.

 

Once they both finished their glasses, they put them on the nightstand. Alastair walked closer to him, looking down at him as he rested his hand on Dean’s right shoulder, which he then moved to caress his neck and cheek.

 

Dean felt panic, but tried not to show it. On one hand, this was definitely not something he wanted, but on the other hand, if he didn’t stay and take it, there would be no deal.

 

“Dean?” Alastair said to get him focused. When he got his attention, he gave a step back and said in a lustful voice: “Take off your clothes.”

 

With slightly shaking fingers, Dean began to work his shirt out, tossing it to the floor, and then discarded his shoes and socks. Next, he stood up, eyed Alastair, and began unfastening his belt, very pointedly looking down at his feet, not the demon. Then his trousers fell, and soon his boxers followed.

 

Once he was naked, he let a moment pass before glancing up at  Alastair, who was looking up and down his body appreciatively.

 

“Come over here, Dean.”Alastair said accompanying his words with a gesture. Dean obeyed.

 

Once he was close, Alastair pressed his hand against his chest lightly, gently. The hand slowly went up, until it was at Dean’s neck, surrounding it. With a somewhat absent expression on his face, he started pressing, a bit more each second, until Dean began to think he was going to kill him there. He raised him, only his toes touching the carpet, and just before he passed out, Alastair loosened his hold, making Dean fall to his knees, gasping for air. The demon pressed his hand against Dean’s hair, caressing him like a pet.

 

“Now, take mine off.” He instructed as if nothing had happened.

 

Slowly, the hunter reached down and started untying the demon’s shoes, and took them off along with his socks. Aware that this was about keeping the demon happy, he lowered his head, swallowed what little pride he had left, and kissed each of his feet. Had he looked up, he’d have seen Alastair smiling, pleased. After that, he rose again and started working the belt off,  then the trousers, leaving the underwear on. Next he stood, and as they looked at each other in the eye, Alastair’s shirt was unbuttoned by Dean’s fingers. Finally, he knelt again and, before he had a chance to doubt, he took the only piece of clothing left down.

 

He looked, grossed out. It was half-hard, a bit longer than his, not by much, but considerably thicker.

 

“What do I do now?”

 

Instead of answering, Alastair grabbed his arm with more strength than needed, no doubt leaving a bruise, and forced him into his feet to push him into the bed.

 

“Lay there.”

 

“Are you going to be gentle or harsh? Make up your mind.” Dean said while he did as he was told.

 

“But it is more fun to have you not knowing what to expect from me.” Alastair explained, nearing him and looking down at him. He stared for some time, making Dean feel ever more uncomfortable.

 

“You will look beautiful in red.” He muttered finally, as if more to himself than to Dean. There was no mockery in his voice this time, no wish to humiliate Dean. It was just a statement, a fact, and that was what made Dean finally realize just what the price of getting Sam back was. It didn’t make him want to back away, but it still had him frozen for a second. He was going to die, he was going to Hell and he was going to bleed. To suffer.

 

Then, Alastair climbed on top of him, their nude chests pressing against each other, their breaths mixing, and the amused, cruel smile back on the demon’s face, making Dean forget everything about Hell, the imminent danger more worrying than the one in a year.

 

“Well, my sweet boy, I think we finally can enjoy our romantic night together. Just relax and _enjoy_.”

 

 

 

Dean laid on the edge of the bed, his back facing a relaxed, smug-looking Alastair. He had bleeding, brutal marks of nails and teeth all over his body, specially his shoulders, neck and ass, and every inch of him felt sore.  He wore a serious, inexpressive face, staring into the wall. At least, he thought, it was over now. The moment his body stopped hurting too much to move, he would get as far away from the monster lying beside him as was possible. When finally he felt like he could do so, he sat and was about to get out of the bed when Alastair grabbed his wrist firmly.

 

“Aren’t you gonna stay for the second round, Dean?” The demon asked in a fake innocent voice.

 

Slowly, Dean faced Alastair.

 

“Second round?” He asked incredulous.

 

“Of course, silly boy. You thought this was enough for me? I’m afraid I still have a bit more of stamina”

 

“Sorry, I think I’ll pass. I just came to get the deal sealed, and now I’m going to go and hope I never ever see you again.” The man spat.

 

“My boy, the deal isn’t sealed until I’m satisfied.” Alastair said in a sing-song  voice. “And I won’t be satisfied until we’ve had at least one more round. Maybe three”

 

The man stared at Alastair with a incredulous expression, which slowly became blank, but on the inside he was feeling a mixture of pure rage, a desire to behead the demon, and some desperation. Careful not to show any of that, he positioned himself on top of Alastair, and forced himself to rub his body against the other’s. Alastair emitted a pleased grunt and grabbed Dean’s body, flipping them so, once again, he was the one on top, controlling.

 

 

 

Luckily for Dean, Alastair had been more direct this time, not bothering too much with his blood kink, and the result there were only a few more injuries covering Dean’s skin, although he was feeling far sorer. Alastair had refused to let him move away between this round and the next, so he was ‘cuddling’ with him, his shoulders surrounded by a strong arm, a hand absentmindedly caressing his forearm, and his face pressed against a sweaty neck. Alastair had been monologuing about things Dean hadn’t really listened to, but he was rather sure that it was about his pastimes back in Hell, something Dean definitely didn’t want to know.  Now, however, he had returned to his annoying humming.

 

“You know, I was kinda expecting you to be far more brutal than that. I thought I’d be missing at least an arm by now. Maybe you’re not as imaginative as you like to think.” Dean commented.

 

“Boy, if I did everything I wanted to do to you, missing a limb would be the least of you worries, and I _did_ give you a year. I thought that if I started with the really fun stuff, I might get carried away, so I fear we’re keeping this vanilla.”

 

Wondering how the demon could possibly call this vanilla, Dean hummed in acknowledgement. “How many more rounds do you feel like doing?” He asked next, his voice carefully neutral.

 

“How many are you willing to endure?” Alastair asked back.

 

“As many as you want, Alastair. You can fuck me until I die from exhaustion if you so want.” Dean answered without a second’s hesitation.

 

“Is that so?” The demon muttered. Dean didn’t answer, nor did the demon tell him to. They just stayed as they were, one resting, the other considering. A couple minutes later, Dean felt Alastair shifting, and then the demon’s hands were cupping his face and Alastair was looking at him in the eye. Dean looked back. The demon had his face, specially his lips, covered in drying blood, none of which belonged to him. In sharp contrast, his mouth was curved up in a dissonantly serene smile. He looked like the fucking psychopath he was. Said psychopath brought Dean’s head closer to him, placing his lips gently against the hunter’s forehead, and then kissed him in the lips. He didn’t invade him with his tongue, nor did he bite to make him bleed, he just kissed him almost chastely.

 

When they separated, Alastair said in a calm voice: “You may go now.”

 

Surprised, Dean stared at him dumbly for a few seconds, but he needn’t to be told twice, and he jumped into the floor and ran towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

 

The first thing he did was to rinse his mouth, taking water in and spitting it until he could taste nothing but water. As he did so, he heard the a door open and close in the other room, but his hopes of the demon having gone didn’t last long because half a minute after he heard it again followed by the sound of Alastair walking.

 

When he finally felt his mouth was clean again, he entered into the shower, letting the warm water relax his sore muscles and wash the dried blood and come away. He applied a big amount of soap and shampoo, leaving him actually cleaner than he had been for almost a week.

 

Once he was completely clean, he walked out of the shower and wrapped himself with the soft towel, and when he was dry, he put it around his waist and walked out of the bathroom. He didn’t like what he saw.

 

Alastair, still naked as the day he (or rather his vessel) was born, was sitting in a chair, but that wasn’t what was bothering him, but rather what was in his hands. It was a silver goblet, one like the one Dean had seen a year before being used by the demon possessing Meg. Just like that one, the one on Alastair’s hands was full of blood, probably from the same person whose blood covered Alastair’s chest and stomach.

 

Some poor person had died. A person that would still be alive if Dean hadn’t summoned the demon before him. A person who probably had a family, who had people who loved and needed him.

 

But no, this wasn’t the moment to think about that. Sam was more important, and he didn’t dare to anger Alastair. So he shut his mouth, shook his head and threw the thought train away.

 

He got his clothes from the floor and began to get dressed, unable to keep himself from hearing Alastair’s half of the conversation.

 

“...been more than a century now. That path was leading nowhere, I assure you, and when Azazel plays his part he’ll get free. There’s no way I could convince him in the time I have left. A week, two at most.”

 

“...”

 

“Yes, this is the one who will.”

 

“...”

 

 “I already told you it won’t be just for my own personal fun. I DO have a sense of duty, you know. He’s my father too.”

 

“...”

 

 “I’ll be waiting until then. Meanwhile, I’ll look for a little gift for you. I know how you like them, I’ll make sure you’ll love it. Am I not a dear?”

 

Dean couldn’t know what they were talking about, but he was sure it was far from good. Alastair was still on his hellish phone when he was done dressing and rushed to the door, eager to see Sam. He tried to open it, but it refused to. He tried a few more times, to no avail.

 

He felt something push him and pin him harshly against the wall. He saw Alastair with his arm raised and his palm facing Dean, holding him where he was with his damned demonic powers. Dean tried to protest but no sound came out from his throat, instead only feeling a pressure on it grow more and more every time he tried to talk, so he decided to keep quiet.

 

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye? You disappoint me, Dean. I thought you were more polite than that.” Alastair said when he was done talking and placed the goblet on the tables while he stood and walked slowly towards him, looking like a disappointed teacher. “We will have to fix that next time we meet.”

 

“I thought I could go already. Now put me on the floor.”

 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you. I’m afraid I’m deaf to rudeness.”

 

“... Could you let me on the floor, please?”

 

Alastair nodded, satisfied. “Now that’s better. As you see, politeness doesn’t hurt and will take you further than rudeness will.” Dean felt his back slide down the wall, his feet meeting the floor, but his arms were still immobilized and he still was pinned to the wall.

 

“I’m sorry I had to ignore you, I had to make a call. Family business, nothing for you to worry about. Talking about family, let’s talk about that dear brother of yours, shall we?”

 

Dean nodded slowly.

 

“I can’t bring your brother back directly, but what I can do is to convince someone who can. Sam will wake up exactly the moment you walk into the room he is rotting in right now. He won’t remember his death, nor what the afterlife is like, so you can skip the dramatic ‘you shouldn’t have done it’ part for a few hours.

 

Now about you part: As I promised, and I always keep my promises, you get a year. However, that doesn’t mean that you will certainly live through it: If you get yourself killed in, let’s say, two weeks, you go to Hell in two weeks. The year I gave you is just the time limit. If you are lucky and reach the end of the year, then a friend of mine will send the hellhounds after you. They are very loving puppies, but I’m afraid that their playing partners usually end up dead. Any questions?”

 

“Can I trust you not to kill me as soon part is done?”

 

Alastair frowned. “You insult me, Dean. I pride myself in my patience, and I have no intention to break my part. I told you I always keep my promises, and looking for loopholes is beneath me. And even if you don’t believe me, you have no choice anyway. Anything else?”

 

Dean shook his head. “Only if I can go now.”

 

“You forgot the magic word, Dean”

 

Dean sighed in frustration. “Can I go now, _please_?”

 

Alastair shrugged. “I see no reason to force you to stay here anymore. Unless, of course, you don’t want to leave.” However, before he finished speaking, Dean was free to move again and walked towards the door, resolute but slowly, almost certain that the demon would demand his attention once again, which he did when Dean touched the handle of the door.

 

“One last thing, boy.” He called. Dean turned and looked at him without saying a word, his face nearly inexpressive, but Alastair could read the exasperation there like a kindergarten book.

 

“Enjoy this year, It’ll be the last one you ever spend on Earth. And goodbye. I’ll see you downstairs. We’re going to have _so much fun_ together, I assure you.”

 

Dean waited some more seconds for him to say anything else, and when he didn’t, he opened the door and closed it behind him, finally putting some distance between them. Now he just had to go see Sam and everything would be as it should.

 

Meanwhile, Alastair fetched the goblet back from the table, some of the bellboy’s blood spilling on his thighs, but he didn’t mind.

 

“Yes sister, he’s gone now. I’ll possess some reaper, revive his brother and his soul will be ours.”

 

“…”

 

“For the last time, _yes_. He’s self-scarifying, puts others before himself and has a firm sense of right and wrong. He is, just like his father, a righteous man.”


End file.
